Walking Dead Man 3:The Path Not Taken
by Claire57
Summary: UPDATED! (In Progress) Renee , Street, & Sandoval begin the search for Liam and the Taelons, while Howlyn and the biosurrogate Sandoval close behind them.


Walking Dead Man 3: The Path Not Taken 

By Claire Boston

*****************************

Disclaimer:  Not mine.  Wish they were.  I like to play with them.  I'll give them back, honest.  Cross my heart.  Really. 

Spoilers:  S5 through "Awakening" and "Termination"

Rating:  PG, mature themes

Summary: Renee, Street, & Sandoval begin the search for Liam and the Taelons, while Howlyn and the biosurrogate Sandoval close behind them.

*****************************

"_Damn_ him!"  Renee was furious, and not inclined to be very quiet about it, either.  Street winced as a stool went flying, thanks to a well-placed kick.  

Such scenes had become rather commonplace over the last few weeks.  As Sandoval had regained some of his composure along with his improved health, Renee's patience had deteriorated.  What Sandoval didn't know, however, was that he wasn't completely responsible for Renee's bad moods.  

With the Taelons now gone, Earth _appeared to be returning to a level of normality resembling that before the Taelons' arrival.  Oh, there were the obvious advances in technology.  The portal system still worked, at least on Earth itself, and the leaps in medical treatments, communications and computers, virtual glass and force fields, weapons tech and even such small things as Taelon-inspired landscape design still persisted.  But humans were returning to old patterns of behavior, playing political games and fighting among themselves.  Oh, full-scale war had yet to break out again, but the era of cooperation against a mutual foe had faded, and old wounds and old scores were being dragged back out of the shadows to fuel another round of in-fighting.  _

But hidden within the shadows, a new and even more deadly foe had arisen.  And humanity, tired and shell-shocked from dealing with issues it was too immature and ill-equipped to handle as a species, continued to turn a blind eye to the existence of yet another alien threat.  And this suited the Atavus, and their reigning king, very nicely. 

So, with humanity either burying its collective heads in the sand and ignoring the growing threat from the Atavus, or else embracing the aliens' power as they were reworked into hybrid creatures of  Howlyn's devising, no one wanted to hear Renee's warnings about the dangers of the Atavus.  In fact, the press was now being 'encouraged' by 'unnamed sources' inside the government itself to ridicule both Renee's ideas and herself, personally, in the press.  And with Hubble Urick out of the picture – he was reported to have had a heart attack and be in a coma – the President had become increasingly isolated even from the other world leaders of the ANA.  The FBI leadership was now honeycombed with Atavus hybrids, and even the acting head of the FBI was now a hybrid, Street knew.

Under the circumstances, Renee's increasing frustration was perfectly understandable.  Even the Resistance itself was not immune to the wishful thinking; mostly, they just wanted to go back to their families and their lives, and rejoice in their apparent victory over the Taelons.    And even though she would never admit it out loud, Street knew that Renee missed the advice, the compassion, the leadership, the _balance that she had come to rely on from Liam.  _

So here they were, trying to convince people to help them fight an enemy that everyone wanted to pretend didn't exist.  And to top it all off, Sandoval was not being especially cooperative.  Oh, he answered Renee's questions, but some answers were really non-answers, and he didn't volunteer anything.  Instead, he responded with questions, presumably meant to clarify the question he had been asked.  And he answered only the question he had been asked, without volunteering anything.  Street wondered if Renee realized that Sandoval had originally trained as a lawyer before entering the FBI, but decided it would be wiser not to mention it.  Renee's temper didn't need any additional fuel to add to the fire.

But what Renee didn't realize was that Sandoval was himself struggling to come to terms with the new reality.  At first, Renee had refused to give him any information about the changes since he was placed in stasis, preferring to keep him isolated in his room and ignorant of anything that she feared he would try to turn to his own advantage.  Finally, realizing that was standing in the way of Sandoval's cooperation, she had relented and allowed Street to begin telling Sandoval about events since Sandoval's aborted ANA trial and subsequent imprisonment and torture at Zo'or's hands.  That was a week ago.

To say he was amazed would be an understatement.  At times, he scoffed or was openly skeptical, but gradually, as Street provided information on people and events, he seemed to begin to believe.  At last, he simply listened, asking only the occasional question if Street referred to an event he didn't know about.  Street was surprised to find his questions to be very insightful.  He would occasionally shake his head, not necessarily because he doubted her word – he seemed have accepted that she was telling the truth, and it made her uncomfortable to realize he could read her that well – but in simple amazement.  So much had changed again in such a short time, and he was struggling to accept that the world he had operated in, and the power structure he had built, was now completely, irretrievably, gone.

So while Street sat and told Sandoval about the world outside his prison, Renee would stand and throw questions at him, demanding answers.  

Sandoval sat quietly on the bunk in his prison cell.  Oh, it didn't look like a prison cell, in spite of the simple furnishings.  There was a plain, almost military-issue single bunk, a bedside table with a lamp, a small chest of drawers, an amoir, a small table and two chairs, and a full length mirror on the door to the small but sufficient bathroom that now contained at least basic toiletries.  There were a few articles of clothing provided by Miss Street; obviously purchased recently, as they were still new and actually fit somewhat, they now provided at least a little variety day to day.  A few nondescript paintings hung on the walls – originals, and quite good, but not good enough to be great.  A recent addition to the room was a small bookcase that was already overflowing with books, and a small vidscreen and console on the table.  The console, of course, wasn't connected to anything.  There was a stack of popular vid discs in a holder, courtesy once again of Miss Street.  Most of them were nothing more than shallow, hackneyed scripts meant to showcase some less-than-memorable actor or actress of the moment, and quickly forgotten.  He rarely looked at them.

And then there were the data clips that Street had provided.  Those showed news events and stories from the last eleven months – _God_, was it really that long since that fateful day Zo'or had summoned him to the bridge for the last time? -  events that he had no memory of and yet several of which showed his own presence.

He wasn't surprised to find himself vilified.  He had expected that, and took an almost perverse pleasure in it.  But it felt very odd, almost surreal, to see himself saying and doing things that he had no memory of.

The faint sounds of someone moving outside his door reached his ears, and he shook himself out of his reverie as Juliette Street entered the room.  Behind her, he could see Renee Palmer, wearing what now seemed to be her new wardrobe of choice: black pants, black tank top, black boots, and a leather utility belt that always held her energy weapon along with an energy blade.  He had been surprised at the change in her appearance from the image of the ultra-sheik, high-powered executive head of the largest corporation on the planet to what he had privately come to think of as her 'Terminator' look.  He assumed she was listening in on his conversations with Street, but since there was nothing he could do about it, he chose to ignore it.

Setting the tray of food down on the table, Street looked up at him with a smile.  "Here we are, today's blue plate special: soy burger on whole wheat with organic tomatoes and bean sprouts, side of fresh spinach with pineapple mustard sauce, and my special carrot-yoghurt-pistachio smoothie."  She gave him a quizzical look.  "I wonder why they call it 'blue plate special', anyway?"

"Before your time, Street," he answered with a slight smile.  Although the descriptions often sounded definitely, well, unappetizing, Sandoval had found many of Street's meals to be surprisingly tasty.  Probably had to do with his childhood diet; his parents had brought many of their island tastes with them to the U.S. when they had emigrated, and he had come to enjoy the shocked and often queasy expressions of his classmates as he pulled out one of his mother's unusual concoctions for school lunch.

Inwardly, he smiled at himself.  He had been developing a rapport with Street, and although it had started cynically enough on his part as he tried to find ways to manipulate and exploit his current situation, he found that he was actually looking forward to her visits at mealtimes.  Usually she would sit with him for a bit, and they would discuss the latest news that she had provided on the situation outside.  Although she was amazingly naïve and trusting for someone who had been involved with the Resistance, he was often surprised at her insights into people and their motivations, and she was definitely distrustful about anyone in an authority position.  He caught himself wondering what had happened to make her so cynical; he had never had time to fully search out her background when Zo'or had originally ordered him to ensure her 'cooperation' with his efforts to decipher Ma'el's riddle.  

"Dr. Curzon is coming later today.  She wants to check on your progress," Street informed him.

That had been a surprise, finding out that his personal physician, Dr. Curzon, was working with Renee Palmer and the Resistance.  He still wasn't sure how to take that, and yet, strangely, he still trusted her – as much as he trusted anyone these days.  He knew she had very strong ideas concerning doctor-patient confidentiality, and somehow, he didn't think she would violate that even for the Resistance.  He wondered how long she had been working for them, but neither woman would give him a straight answer.  Of course, the fact that he now knew about Dr. Curzon was more proof that they didn't intend to let him go, but he had never fooled himself on that score.  

"Good.  Hopefully she won't want to drain too much of my blood this time.  I swear, all doctors must be born part vampire."  He forced lightness into his voice, and in response saw Street give a smile at his predictable humor.  The first couple of times had been rough, as the sight of the needle had sent him into a blind panic.  He still got the shakes inside, but had convinced himself that he was hiding it well.  He looked up, startled, as Street placed a hand on his arm.

"It's getting better, isn't it?" she asked softly.  He gave her his standard glare, but she met his eyes unflinchingly now.  Finally, he gave a slight nod of acquiescence and looked away, not wanting to actually say the words.  The nightmares still haunted his sleep, and he thought perhaps they always would.

Taking her cue from his silence, Street changed the subject.  "Did you have a chance to look at the news clip I gave you yesterday?"

"Well, it was hard, but I managed to fit it into my busy schedule."  His dry tone had her smiling in spite of herself.  Sometimes she actually caught herself starting to banter with him, like she had always done with Liam.  She knew Renee didn't want to see it, but Liam had definitely inherited some of his dry wit from his father.  

_Stop it, Street!  If you start thinking about it, next thing you know you'll slip and say something you shouldn't!  _She shook herself furiously.  _Remember what he did to you, and to Augur and Renee, and even to Liam!  He's just playing you, hoping to get you to tell him something that he can use against you or help him to escape!  _But still, she had to admit, Sandoval had a charming side.  She just wished she could believe it was more than an act.

"You know Renee's gonna ask you about it.  You really ought to tell her what you know."

"What is this, good cop-bad cop?  I was playing that game before you were born, little girl."  The cynical tone in his voice brought her head up sharply.  She opened her mouth, but couldn't say anything as the tears formed in her eyes.  Finally the anger came.

"You think I'm just trying to work on you, play games with you?  You, you, you….!"  Somehow this barb had really hit its mark, and Street stood up and practically ran from the room.  Sandoval could hear the sound of the lock sliding into place as he sat and stared at the now-empty chair across from him.

Street didn't return that evening.  Renee brought his dinner tray and left without a word.  Renee hadn't visited him for her afternoon 'interrogation' either, and he wondered whether there was something going on. Briefly he frowned as he remembered the flash of pain he had seen in the young hacker's eyes before she had fled.  Somehow, that memory made him very uncomfortable, and he pushed it away as he finished his meal and got ready for bed.

***********

Renee set the dinner tray on the small table and turned to leave without saying a word.

"Where's Street?"  

She turned to look at Sandoval at his words.  "What do you care?"

"She wasn't here last night, or this morning either.  Something's happened, hasn't it?"  Sandoval wasn't sure why he was pressing the issue; it certainly wasn't part of his strategy for getting close to the young hacker and perhaps gaining the opportunity to escape.   

"It's not your concern, Sandoval.  So unless you've decided to give me the command codes to access the secured archives on the mothership…"

Sandoval stared at her, his face an expressionless mask.

She continued to glare at him, her eyes hard and glittering with some strong emotion.  At last, she snapped at him, "Fine!  Sit here and rot, for all I care!"  The door slammed behind her, and he heard the lock slam home, followed by a thump that he knew was her fist striking the door.

Part of him felt a sense of satisfaction at her loss of control, while another part of his mind analyzed her reaction and realized that, for her, it was a sign of stress or worry or both.  Combined with Street's continuing absence, he began to feel uneasy.  

_Something's definitely happened, and it involves Street.  _He turned the moments over again in his mind, working to put together any hint of what was going on, but there wasn't enough to figure it out.  Yet.

***

At the sound of the lock in the door, Sandoval looked up from his reexamination of the most recent news clip.  His night had been a restless one, filled with half-remembered nightmares, and he had awakened several times in a cold sweat.  At last, knowing the dreams would only return to torment him once more, he had begun reviewing the news clips of recent events once again, hoping to distract his mind from the unwanted memories that plagued his sleep.  It was unnecessary, really, as his CVI gave him perfect recall of the clips once he had seen them.  But it was something to do to pass the time.

As the door swung open, Street entered with his breakfast tray, and moved to the table.  He frowned as he took in her haggard appearance.  Refusing to meet his eyes, the young hacker set the tray on the table and turned to leave, all without a word.

"Street."  She hesitated as he spoke her name, then continued moving to the door.

"Street, what happened?"

Nothing.  

"So who died?"  

At his cool words, Street swung around, her face a twisted mask of pain and fury.  "SHUT UP!  Just… shut up!  You don't know anything about it!"  

He tried to make his voice softer.  "Why don't you tell me what happened.  You might be surprised by how much I understand."

Street gave a mirthless laugh.  "You?  What would you understand about the pain…,"  she faltered, but then met his eyes and continued, "the pain of… killing someone when….when killing is against everything you believe in?  What would you know about being forced to decide… who lives and who dies, when you believe life is sacred, that everyone should have the chance to live?"  She continued to lock eyes with him, and he didn't know how to look away.  "He was a hybrid, and he would have killed both of us.  I had to kill him.  I didn't want to, but I _had to."  He could see the shine of tears in her eyes, as she continued in a low voice.  "He didn't __ask to be turned into a hybrid.  He _begged_ us to run away.  But the craving was too strong, and he…  he…..   God, I feel dirty!"_

She whirled and groped blindly for the door through the tears.

"Street."  She heard the soft voice, as she felt the hands on her shoulders.  But there was a gentleness in the voice, and in the hands, that she could hardly believe even as she heard and felt it.  Feeling the gentle pressure on her arms, she turned, gesturing helplessly with her hands in a futile search for words.  Then, giving in to the raw pain raging through her, pain that she didn't know how to cope with, she let herself be cradled in comforting arms, burying her face into his chest as the tears came.

And standing there, holding the distraught young hacker in his arms, Sandoval found himself remembering the ideals that had drawn him to service with the FBI all those many years ago.  Remembering a certain green young FBI agent, staring down at the body of a young man – no, a boy, really – who had already killed two senior agents and who had then tried to kill him, too.    

He had a lot of thinking to do. 

*******

"He what!?"  There was more than a little skepticism in Renee's tone.

Street looked at her friend, knowing that she would be hard to convince.  "I said, Sandoval wants to cooperate, to help us fight the Atavus."

Renee snorted, a very unladylike sound that would never have been uttered in her former days as a corporate CEO.  "Yeah, right.  And I'm the tooth fairy!"

"Renee, at least _listen_!  Yes, I know this seems sudden to you, but I think…  I think he means it."  Street hesitated, then continued on.  "We talked.  He told me some things, about why he joined the FBI, about what he believed in – before the Taelons came, before they put a CVI in his head!"

"Are you really that naïve, Street?  He's just using you, saying what he thinks you want to hear!  He just wants to escape, and he'll do anything or say anything to make that happen!"  Renee wasn't sure whether she was madder at Sandoval, for twisting her friend around this way, or at Street herself, for still being so gullible.  

"Renee!"

"No!"

"But what if he means it?  What if he's for real, this time?  Can we afford not to try?"  Street looked up at Renee.  "He's got nothing left to lose anymore.  And neither do we."

The two friends stared at each other, one pleading and one defiant.  Finally, Renee ran a hand through her hair.

"Okay.  But…," she held up a hand to halt Street's words before they began, "…he's got to prove that he means it.  He's got to give us something big, something we can use to really hurt the Atavus.  Then, I'll _think about it."   She turned to head back into the Lair's main room.  "But until he does, he stays put right where he is!"  _

****************

"Welcome back, Commander Boone."  

The words echoed around the empty chamber as Sandoval – or at least, what looked like Sandoval – stared into the stasis tank.

Then, with a precision that was eerily inhuman in its efficiency, the biosurrogate began orchestrating the release of Da'an's former Protector, according to the plan of his current master.

Boone would lead them right to Palmer and her little group of Resistance remnants.  And with Palmer captured and made into a hybrid  - _or better yet, dead, the pretender thought – the path would be clear for their mutual domination of Earth.  Howlyn would be pleased._

Something like pleasure wound its way through the synapses of this most unholy of creatures.

**********

"_Damn_ it, Boone!  We _need you!  __I need you!"  Renee's voice was furious, even in the admission.  _

The former Companion Protector, newly resurrected from the limbo of stasis, dropped his eyes.  "I can't, Renee."  He hesitated, knowing his words were hurting her.  "It's too soon.  I can't deal with it all.  Sarah…" His voice broke on his sister's name.  Just saying it now hurt too much, knowing he would never see her again.  

In the three years since his official 'death', the world had changed, almost beyond his recognition.  Sarah had been his touchstone, his anchor, as he tried to cope with his abrupt awakening and with the new reality that the Taelons were gone, forever, and had been replaced by a new and even deadlier menace: the Atavus. 

Their evil was stunning; they didn't want to control humans, they wanted to assimilate them.  Change them.  Make them into something dark and twisted and hungry, like themselves.  Make them into… Atavus.  

Through the mind-controlled hybrids, the Atavus and their leader sought to control, to dominate - to…consume – humanity.  

As they had consumed Sarah.

"Will-," he could hear the pain in her voice now, "- please – stay…." For a long moment, neither of them moved, then he heard the soft rustle of her movements.  Soft arms embraced him, hesitant at first as if fearing he would pull away, then tightening with the depth of her feelings.  Slowly his arms came up to encircle her waist in a gesture of not-quite surrender and not-quite need, and he whispered his sister's name into the softness of Renee's hair.  

"Sarah…"   

He was hurting, and his first instinct was to run, and keep on running.  But somehow, he knew he could never outrun this.  And so, with the kind of quiet strength with which he had always faced the unfaceable, he surrendered to the grief tearing at his soul, and buried his face against her shoulder.  And at last, the tears came….

He would stay.  And he would fight.  For Sarah.

*****

"Sandoval's a prisoner, here?!  How is that possible?"  Boone's voice was taut with disbelief.  He eyed Renee with not a small measure of skepticism, his face still bearing the signs of exhaustion from lack of sleep.  Although he had lain doggedly on the narrow cot through the night hours, his sorrow and rage at the loss of his beloved sister had refused to allow him to find rest.  Now, he forced himself to concentrate on Renee's unexpected words.

"Well, it seems the 'Sandoval' who revived you from stasis is merely a biosurrogate."

"A what?"  Boone was puzzled.  Renee suddenly realized that the Taelons' creation of biosurrogates had been discovered after Boone's death.

"They're created lifeforms, but with no conscious minds.  The Taelons developed them and tried implanting human consciousness into them to create warriors to use against the Jaridians."

Boone nodded.  He had already learned about the Jaridians, those shadowy 'enemies' that the Taelons would never describe, or even name, to their implanted servants.  He shook off the sudden surge of memories of his previous time of service to the Taelons.  He still had trouble believing they were gone.

"Well, apparently, they can use stored DNA to create a biosurrogate having the appearance of the original.  Then they can implant someone's memories, or another's consciousness, into that body."  Renee hesitated; there was no need to tell Boone of the time that Augur and Liam had…  She fought the momentary pain the memories brought.  Of the time that Augur and Liam had met a man calling himself Lazarus…and bearing the memories of William Boone.  This man had already suffered too much in the brief few days since his resurrection; he didn't need this horror added to his burden.  Renee took a deep breath and continued, "We've encountered it on more than one occasion."  She didn't elaborate.

"And the Taelons did this to Sandoval?  Why?"  

"Not the Taelons.  Just Zo'or."  Renee couldn't keep her contempt out of her voice.  "Toward the end, he became almost completely deranged."  Boone was nodding his head slightly.  He could believe that; Zo'or had always been unpredictable and devious, striving for ever-greater power and control.  "Apparently, he created this double to serve him, and then kept the real Sandoval around for quite a while to 'play' with.  When he got tired of him, or got too busy, he stuffed him in the stasis tank."

"Like he did me."  Boone felt a surge of sympathy for his fellow implant.  After all, he was the reason that Sandoval had survived the failure of his first CVI.  If Boone hadn't had him forcibly reimplanted…

"He's nothing like you!"  The vehemence of her voice startled Boone, and he looked up at Renee in surprise.  "He's a monster, who's killed innocent people without a second thought!"

Boone looked at her calmly, and his words were soft but firm.  "He wasn't always like that, Renee.  It was the CVI."  At her glare, he continued gently, "When it failed, his first action was to rescue his wife.  He loved her."  His voice was wistful with the memories of his own lost love.  "He begged me not to reimplant him, to let him die rather than go back to being what he was.  He _cried, Renee."_

She shook her head, not wanting to hear. "No."  Not wanting to see this enemy, this monster, as a person who had known suffering and loss.  But Boone's steady gaze met her eyes with a calm and understanding empathy that shown in spite of his obvious fatigue, and she couldn't refuse the request he voiced next. 

*********

"There's someone here who wants to talk to you, Sandoval."  There was an odd note in Palmer's voice, as he looked up from studying the day's news clips.  Without consciously deciding why, he rose to his feet as Palmer stepped aside to allow the person behind her to move into the room.

Sandoval stared at the figure in the doorway, and all the color drained from his face.  "No!  You're not….!"  He took a step backward, and blindly groped for the edge of the bed, then sank trembling onto its edge.  And all the while, he never took his eyes off of the man before him.

William Boone.  Alive.  

"Hello, Ron." 

When the man on the bed continued to stare at him without saying a word, Boone gave a small sigh and moved farther into the room.  Beside him, Renee glanced his way.  "It's okay," he reassured her, "let me talk to him.  Alone."

Without another word, Renee turned and left, closing the door behind her with a clang.  He could hear the lock click home.

***********

Street glanced at the silent monitor nervously.  "So, what do you think they're talking about?"

Working at a second monitor nearby, Renee didn't look up as she answered tightly, "I have no idea."  

"But…," Street started, only to be interrupted by Renee.  "Let's just get this detector going, okay?"

Nodding slowly, Street acquiesced.  "Sure," she agreed quietly.

Quiet reigned in the main room of the Lair as both bent to their task of creating a multidimensional detection device.  The fact that it had never been done before didn't deter them at all.  They couldn't afford to allow it to; there was too much at stake.

*********

"Where is he?"  Howlyn's voice was raised in anger.

The face of Ronald Sandoval was eerily unaffected.  "We lost the signal from the implanted tracer here," he pointed to a map on the screen before him, "just southwest of central Washington, D.C.  I suspect that someone, probably Palmer or one of her associates, has either removed or blocked the signal."

"I want him found!  Now!"  The Atavus king snapped in response, obviously not pleased with his minion's report.  "He is our route to Renee Palmer.  And I will have her, or I will have your head!"  

"I have three teams searching the area where Boone's tracer was last detected.  They will hunt for any trace of him or of anyone he may have come in contact with, including Palmer and her associates."

"Find him, Sandoval.  Find him, and find Renee Palmer."  Howlyn spoke more quietly, but his words were no less threatening for their quietness.  "I give you twenty-four hours."  With one last glare at his subordinate, Howlyn glided from the room.

Barely glancing up, 'Sandoval' resumed his searches for the elusive William Boone.

*********

"So, I guess you never expected us to meet like this."  Boone tried to inject a slight note of humor into the silence in the small room.

"I never expected us to meet again at all, Boone," Sandoval replied in a tight voice.  

Boone didn't reply, but only moved to pull out the empty chair on his side of the table.  Spinning it around, he straddled the seat, resting his forearms along the top of the seatback.  Still without saying a word, he met his former associate's eyes, seeing shock, unease, and – could that possibly be guilt?

For his own part, Ronald Sandoval was struggling to hold his face to an expressionless mask.  But he couldn't control his eyes, and he knew they were revealing more of his thoughts and feelings that he wished.  He felt a strange sense of disconnectedness, and knew it was evidence of the shock he had experienced at seeing Boone alive again.

"No, you didn't, did you?"  Boone's words were quiet and thoughtful.  "But you knew Zo'or had put me in that stasis tank."

Sandoval shook his head.  There was no reason not to tell the truth.  Not now.  "Not at first.  I genuinely thought he'd killed you."  He hesitated, then looked squarely at the man in front of him.  "I only found out the truth about a year later.  And even then, I thought that the only thing remaining was a copy of your memories.  I didn't know….," he felt an unaccustomed lump in his throat.  He tried again, "I didn't know he had **_you_** in there.  All of you, not just scans of your mind."  

Boone asked the next question quietly.  "Would it have made a difference?"

After a moment, Sandoval slowly shook his head.  "No.  No, it wouldn't have."  He looked down at his hands, fingers unconsciously clasped tightly in his lap.  He forced himself to loosen the grip.  "Not then."

"And now?"  

"What do you want from me, Boone?"  Sandoval's sudden outburst didn't seem to startle the other man much, as if he were expecting it.  "Do you want me to pretend I cared?  I didn't!  I was _glad_ you were dead!"

The question was still quiet.  "Why?"

Sandoval snorted, the sound itself a comment.  "As if you didn't know!"  He glared at the man sitting so quiet and composed in front of him.  "You killed her!  You killed Dee Dee!  And then you made me… made me….made me back into a monster!  I wanted to die, and you wouldn't let me!"  He buried his face in his hands.

"I'm sorry, Ron.  I wish things could have been different, but I did what I had to do at the time."  The pain in Boone's voice was sincere, but Sandoval was having none of it.

"And so did I!  I survived!  You deserved to be dead, and I made sure you stayed that way!"  

"Ron…," Boone hesitated slightly, then made a decision.  "Ron, Dee Dee's not dead."

Sandoval raised angry eyes to him.  "I know that.  I've seen her."

"Then what…?"

"She's alive, and she hates me.  She's taken up with an Amoralist, and together they tried to destroy me.  Maybe they already have."  His voice trailed off, as if he wasn't speaking to Boone, but rather to himself.

"I'm sorry."

"Get out.  Just… get out, Boone.  I can't stand to look at you anymore."  The words held more of weariness than anger.

Slowly standing, Boone moved to the door and knocked.  When the lock slid back, he stepped through the door, pausing only momentarily to glance back at the man huddled on the edge of the bed, his face buried in his hands.

********

As she placed the dinner tray on the table, Street silently regarded the man on the bed.  He hadn't even looked up when she had entered the room, to all appearances not even noticing her presence.  It was so out of character for him, with his almost preternatural alertness.  Even his CVI's partial failure, with its uncontrolled memory intrusions, hadn't caused much apparent loss of the enhanced abilities it had bestowed.  

But this.  This wasn't…normal.  Not for him.

Street almost gave a nervous laugh at the thought.  When had anything about Ronald Sandoval been _normal?  Yet surprising herself, she realized that she was concerned about him._

"Hey, your dinner's gonna get cold."  

No response.

Moving over to where he sat quietly on the bed, staring down at his hands clasped loosely in his lap, Street hesitated.  Then, slowly and a bit cautiously, she sat beside him on the narrow bunk.  The silence seemed oppressive.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"No."  Well, at least that was progress.  He knew she was there, at least.

"You know, I'd like to say that I know what you're feeling."  She studied her own hands for a moment.  "But I don't.  I've never had to deal with losing someone like that."   The silence grew, but it no longer seemed quite as heavy as it had been.

"I'm not really sure what I'm feeling right now."  Sandoval's words were soft, and strangely hesitant.  "There are just too many memories….  Too many things that happened….that shouldn't have."

"Maybe it's time to make some new ones."  He looked up, startled at her words.  "Better ones."  

Meeting her eyes for a long moment, he finally nodded slowly in agreement.

"Maybe it is."

*************   

The edge of the doorway exploded, sending pieces of wood and stone flying.  Renee felt the sting of pain in her arm and side as she desperately ducked back out of the line of fire.  On the other side of the doorway, William Boone met her eyes briefly before dropping to one knee and firing around the edge of the opening.

It didn't look like they would be meeting their contact after all.  The dark shape across the warehouse floor was grim testimony to that.  Only Boone's uncanny intuition, perhaps his training in Special Ops plus some remnant of enhanced senses from his prior implantation, had prevented them from being caught in the trap.  Without warning, he had given Renee a shove that sent her back into the protection of the doorway, even as the hybrid hidden ahead of them had fired.

Face grim, Boone continued firing shot after shot at their attacker.  Whether by luck or more evidence of his former implant's abilities, they heard a startled cry and a crash as Boone's last shot found its mark.

Searching silently, the two stalked slowly through the debris and clutter of the old warehouse, gradually confirming that there were no other adversaries hidden.  Boone crouched briefly by the body of their contact, seeing the evidence of the hybrid's attack.

Still without speaking, the two turned and made their way out of the building and back to the safety of St. Michael's.

************

"I believe that both Boone and Renee Palmer were to meet with a representative of the US State Department; however, apparently one of our 'hybrid' converts within that organization took it upon himself to attempt to capture Palmer by himself."  Sandoval's voice betrayed no trace of awareness of Howlyn's growing rage.  "Obviously, he failed."

"And why did he not inform me of this?  Is this your doing, _Sandoval?"  _

'Sandoval' looked up at his Atavus master.  "No.  I was also unaware of this plan to contact Palmer.  Obviously, our agent wished to demonstrate his prowess and devotion, and therefore earn your favor."  He paused briefly before adding, "Unfortunately, he overestimated his own abilities.  A common failing among your newer hybrids."  

"Find her.  Now!"  

With a slight bow, the human turned and left the bridge.

*********

"Ouch!"

"Sorry."  Boone adjusted the bandage, loosening it just a bit.  "There, is that better?"

Renee continued to glare for a moment, then reluctantly felt it turn into a smile at the questioning look on Boone's face.  "Yes, thank you."  

"All part of the service, ma'am," Boone returned jauntily.  He had insisted on bandaging Renee's arm where the flying wood chips had caught her, several imbedding themselves through her sleeve and into the tender flesh of her upper arm.  She had a scrape along her ribs, too, from where a larger chunk had struck, but it was more bruise than wound due to her heavy leather jacket.  

Returning his grin, Renee saw his eyes go serious.  She felt her own grin fading, but didn't look away from his eyes as he slowly leaned toward her.  The touch of his lips was soft yet electrifying, and she gave a soft sigh as the kiss deepened.  Then, still silent, she rose and followed him as he led her toward the corridor to the sleeping quarters. 

***********

"It's not working," Street's voice was distracted as her fingers flew fast and furious over the keyboard.

"It's not supposed to."

"What?!" That made the young hacker look up at last.

"At least not at first."  There was a slight hint of amusement in Sandoval's voice as he met her indignant eyes.  "Enter the pass code again two more times, and each time increment the fifth digit by seven.  But don't change any of the other digits." He almost chuckled at her look of disbelief.  "It's a 'tell me three times' system, with a twist.  In this case, all three times you're prompted, you have to entered a different code.  All three codes in series are the actual pass code, not just the initial one."

"What twisted mind thought that one up?"  But her question was more rhetorical than real, and with a resounding cry of "Yes!" Street brought up the display of the historical archives on the Mothership.

"What are you looking for?"  His tone was casual, but he hoped it didn't betray his intense curiosity.  Street had said she wanted information on multidimensional physics, but hadn't explained beyond that.  He had agreed to provide the codes to access the Mothership's secure archives – the ones that had been accessible only with Synod approval.  It was his first, real effort at cooperation after his agreement with Street.  It still felt strange, he thought as he gazed around the enormous man-made cavern that was the central hub of what Palmer referred to as 'the Lair'.

Shooting him a quick look as data on the screen scrolled at a speed only a CVI – or a genius with photographic memory – could read, Street didn't answer.  

"Have you found it yet?" Behind him, Renee Palmer's voice held a hint of excitement, and something else,  that caused his eyes to widen slightly in surprise.

"Not yet.  I just got in.  It's gonna take a while."  Surprisingly, Street's voice held some of the same mix of excitement and – something else - as Renee's.

"You know, I've spent a lot of time searching in those archives." He didn't need to remind them that it had been for many of Zo'or's little 'projects'.  "Maybe if you tell me what you're looking for, I can help."  As Renee shot him a hard look, he met her eyes squarely.  "Look, you asked for my help, and I'm giving it.  So use me.  Tell me what you're trying to find.  Maybe I've already seen it, or something that might help you find it quicker."

Street looked up as Renee glanced her way.  "There's a lot of information here, Renee.  I mean a LOT.  These archives cover at least a half a million years, with some stuff that goes back as far as two million."  That any race could have existed continuously for that long was still a mind-boggling concept to the humans; that the Taelon records were organized neatly into ten thousand-year segments was relatively little help to humans to whom a mere hundred years was considered the benchmark for 'antique'.  "It's gonnna take a long time to sort through and search it out, especially if Ma'el hid the information."

With a hard look at Street for taking the decision out of her hands, Renee turned to look wordlessly at Sandoval.  He put on his best expressionless mask, and met her eyes calmly.  

"Okay, fine."  She gave him a long, stern look before issuing the expected warning. "Listen, this doesn't go anywhere other than the three of us here, got that?"  At his nod, she continued.  "Okay, Street is looking for detailed information on temporal and spatial multi-dimensional constructs.  Specifically, we want to know how to build them, how to detect them, and how to access them."  She drew breath to explain, but Sandoval held up a hand.

"I know what they are…I think."  He frowned.  "But I don't remember seeing anything about them in the archives."

Renee gave a rather unladylike snort. "Of course not.  Ma'el hid all his research on that, and practically everything else that relates to Earth or humans."  Leaning in to look over Street's shoulder at her screen, Renee continued, "But the key point is that he _hid_ it, rather than destroyed it.  He obviously couldn't bear to lose all that knowledge.  Typical scientist."

"Or maybe he knew we were gonna need it."  Street's voice held a surprising note of certainty.  At Renee's, and even Sandoval's, look of skepticism, she continued a bit defensively, "Ma'el knew a lot of stuff that he didn't tell anyone about.  There were some things in that relic of his….," her voice trailed off suddenly.

"Like what?"  Renee didn't know what Street was talking about.  As Street hesitated, Renee repeated with a bit more force: "Like **_what_, Street?"**

"Ma'el knew about Liam."  

At her quiet words, Renee started violently.  "Oh, my god."

"Yeah."

Sandoval was confused.  "What are you talking about?  Who's 'Liam'?"  Surely, they couldn't be talking about….?

"I saw his face in the data we retrieved from the relic."

Renee's voice was clearly shaken.  "Could it have been recorded somehow, when he accessed the relic with Zo'or?"

Now Sandoval was really confused.  "Wait a minute.  You mean 'Liam', as in Major Kincaid?"

 But the two women were oblivious to Sandoval's questions.  "No, it only appeared after I solved the riddle for the seventh dimension."  Street was positive about that.  She had stared at the data so long and hard that she could see it in her dreams.  In fact, she often did.  "Renee, I think….I think Ma'el knew, somehow.  About Liam, I mean."

"Knew what?  Dammit, what are you talking about?  Kincaid's dead!"  At Sandoval's impatient words, Renee finally seemed to remember he was there.

"Maybe not."  Her voice was quiet, but confident.  Sandoval looked at her in surprise, as he heard once again that – something else – in her voice.  "That's what we're trying to find out."

He had thought he was beyond surprises, but once again Sandoval found that these two had managed to come up with the unexpected.  He frowned.  Kincaid, alive?  He wasn't sure what he thought of the idea.  But then, he wasn't completely adjusted to the idea that Kincaid was dead yet, either.  He kept expecting to have him turn up, from around some corner somewhere, smiling with that irritating smirk of his….   He realized that Renee was staring at him, with her habitual expression of disdain that she always seemed to wear around him.  It was beginning to wear a bit thin.

_If I can put up with Zo'or and his sick and twisted ideas for nearly three years, _he thought, carefully maintaining his 'no expression' face, _I can certainly put up with the Ice Queen here.  "What do you mean?"_

Renee was silent a long moment, glancing over at Street questioningly.  At Street's slight nod, she turned back to regard Sandoval directly, looking as though she had swallowed something sour.  At last she spoke.

"You've seen the news clips telling how the Taelons vanished inside the Kamchatka volcano."

Sandoval nodded.  It had been one of the few things that he had taken pleasure in reading.  The Taelons, those supercilious, treacherous, beautiful creatures, had destroyed his life.  Relishing their demise was one of his few indulgences since his 'awakening'.  

Palmer continued, "Obviously, what was in the news clips was not the whole story."

According to the stories at the time, the Taelons were dying, and had gone to Ma'el's chamber, in hopes of somehow being regenerated.  They had believed that Ma'el had somehow solved the problem of core energy, and that they would be able to save their race.  Major Kincaid had transported with them, as had Renee Palmer and J. Street, all of whom had apparently been involved in helping the Taelons solve Ma'el's final riddle.  The chamber had malfunctioned, causing the volcano to explode.  Palmer and Street had been able to escape in the Taelon shuttle; Major Kincaid and the final surviving Taelons had all perished.  At least, that's what had been reported.

Sandoval already knew that was not the whole story.  There had been no mention of the presence of the Jaridians in the chamber.  There was also no mention of a fourth human; however, Street had told him that Augur had also been present.  Kincaid's hacker friend was _persona non grata to most governments, so he had not been mentioned in the news reports either.  But the specifics of what had really happened…  No, he hadn't been told that yet. _

Sandoval waited attentively, holding his curiosity in check.  What else was there?

But Palmer was giving him another of her hard looks, betraying her still-suspicious attitude toward him.  She was obviously still reluctant to disclose anything to him that she didn't have to.  He gave a wordless sigh.  This was beginning to get tedious.

With a frown in her friend's direction, Street started the story.  "You could only enter the chamber by ID portal.  And initially, it was only one-way."

"Initially?  You mean it wasn't, later?"  This was different.

Street nodded.  "Yes.  Liam used it to transport into the inner chamber.  That's where we found the pods, and the energy pool.  When Liam tried to transport back, the portal wouldn't let him."

Palmer spoke up then, "We figured out that Ma'el intended the Taelons to use the energy pool to regenerate, to rejoin with the Jaridians."

"Jaridians?"

Renee nodded tightly.  "Your double apparently brought them into the picture, but they double-crossed …him… and left him on the Mothership, thinking him dying or dead."  Sandoval repressed a shudder, not realizing Street had noticed it.

Street took up the story.  "Renee brought Da'an and the remaining surviving Taelons down, and then the Jaridians showed up.   Liam convinced them that attempting a rejoining was their only chance at survival, and finally they agreed.  By that time, the reactivation of the chamber had begun some kind of reaction in the volcano – we're not sure what, or why.  But things were beginning to get hot in there."

Renee eyed the young hacker, and Street met her gaze defiantly.  "You shouldn't have been in there in the first place."

"Yeah, right.  Like I was gonna let Liam stay stuck in there.  Not if I could help it!"

Sandoval turned to Street in surprise.  "You were in the chamber, too?"

Street nodded "Liam and I activated Ma'el's relic, after I solved the riddle.  It showed us that this was what Ma'el intended all along."

Renee shook her head.  "I'm not sure I buy that.  I think Ma'el _hoped_ it would work, but he didn't know."

"Then how do you explain seeing Liam's face in the data from the relic?"  Street argued.

Renee just shook her head.

"You really saw Kincaid?"  Sandoval wasn't sure what he thought about _that. _

Street nodded once again.  "Yes."  Her tone was a bit defensive.  "He had to be there."

"Why?"  _That didn't make any sense, Sandoval thought._

Glancing at Renee first, Street took a deep breath before she answered.  "Because Liam had to channel the energy flows from the energy pool into the pods."

Frowning, Sandoval realized there was something going on here that he hadn't been told.  He cautiously ventured a comment.  "But why did it have to be Kincaid?  I mean, anybody could have run the machinery."

But Street was already shaking her head.  "No.  He didn't punch buttons or anything.  He…he channeled it through his own body."

"What?  But that's impossible!  Taelon energy – and Jaridian, too! – can kill a human!  He wouldn't have been able to survive that!"  Sandoval was very sure of this, he had spent too much time on too many Taelon projects with fatal results – at least for the human 'subjects'.  Taelon energy, in large doses, was fatal to a human.  He had seen the results, on quite a few occasions.

But the two women just looked at each other, exchanging meaning without words.  Sandoval looked from one to the other.  "It's not possible…," he started again, only to have Street interrupt.

"Yes, it is possible.  Take my word for it."  Street's voice was very certain.

Renee decided to divert Sandoval before he could pursue the subject  of Liam's abilities any further.  "Augur and Street had set up a feed that sent all the data from the chamber to our shuttle, and uploaded it to Augur's computer.  So we have data from the last few minutes before the volcano exploded."

"And?"  Sandoval asked.

Street answered.  "Analysis of the data shows that, a few seconds before the volcano exploded, the chamber…disappeared."  

At Sandoval's look of astonishment, Street explained. "We think it was moved somewhere.  Somewhere we can't detect it, at least with the technology we've got."

Seeing the connection now, Sandoval finished it for her.  "Moved into a multi-dimensional construct."

TBC


End file.
